Good Enough
by lil kagome 15
Summary: It was dark in the clearing, the heat of the summer filling her nostrils with the sensation of being on fire. Not once had she cried to him in this fight, not once had she screamed out or told him of his traitorous decisions[mild sexual content][complete]


**Title: **Good Enough

**Rating: **M (R)

**Warning: **Some minor sexual detailing.

**Creation Date: **August 22, 2007

**Authors Note: **I would like to thank you all for supporting me, and though this may seem like a brooding fic this is just a warm up to get me back into the writing mode.

**Dedication: **I dedicate this story to the boy that left me and for what that's worth it was the best goodbye in the world.

It was dark in the clearing, the heat of the summer filling her nostrils with the sensation of being on fire. She felt the warm trickle of blood from her brow, the feel of defeat setting in as she began to sense her own fatigue. One of them would die this night, and assuredly it would be her. She closed her left eye the moment she felt the salty liquid take it's place there. So he'd taken partial sight, his staggered breathing filling her ears, as she looked at his face, so fair and beautiful.

She could imagine him smiling, the ghost of laughter in his coal colored eyes. He lifted his arm into a forward stance, giving her a good sight of his well-toned chest. She would never get to appreciate it though, for he was the enemy, and you do not fawn over the enemy. Flattery was a luxury none of the villagers were afforded these days. He lurched forward, his katana etched into the moonlit clearing, the striking glint of silver leaving her feeling completely at peace. If she died here tonight she would never again be in this predicament.

If death would come to her tonight she would never have to face another friend as opponent. She would never have to comfort the injured ninja of this war, never see their faces stricken with fear of death, and premature endings. She could see the end gloomily setting in. He would be the one to take her life, just as he had taken her heart so long ago. She could almost laugh at the irony.

He came at her, the cold blade connecting with her wrist as she tried deftly to parry the attack with a kunai. Too bad nothing ever worked out the way she hoped. She felt the sting of pain in her wrist, her mind clouded with pain as he pulled back, the sound of birds chirping catching her guard. She snapped open her eyes, staring into his eyes as he produced a blue ball of death right in front of her.

It was piteous the way he could make her whole body go numb with just that incoherent stare. She felt his eyes bare down on her, the final stroke of his brilliance casting her life aside. She lifted her arms, ignoring the blood gathering at her elbow before dripping to the ground. She formed a recognizable seal, her fist charging with chakra as she jumped forward meeting his forward attack with a fist to the ground. The explosion left her ears ringing for quite some time.

She could feel her body, even so broken, as it was she could feel the anguish coming from every nerve within the reach of the powerful chidori he was releasing into her body. The sword stung right as it went through her side, the powerful strike leaving her winded. She saw his eyes turn to her, his mouth agape as he watched her close her bright green eyes. He felt the point of impact, the give before she flew backwards, into the ground about thirty feet off. He was thrown backwards with the force of her punch, his eyes fluttering closed as he smashed into a stump. Wasn't it ironic how things had persisted to this?

He could still remember the times when she would pine for him, her every word so juvenile. Not once had she cried to him in this fight, not once had she screamed out or told him of his traitorous decisions and the effect on her life that had made. He saw a stranger in her eyes. She was not the girl he could remember, not the one he had so hated and pitied at the same time. He could gather from what he had seen that she was stronger, her arms sculpted and her legs toned. He could tell she'd put a lot of effort into it. Too bad it had to end like this. He was aware that she would probably never wake from the impact of his blade, never again would those sea-foam eyes answer to his own. He would never have the opportunity to protect her and win back her trust in him. It was all just wishful thinking from the beginning anyways.

Karin had always known this as well; he would have to kill the blossom of his heart to succeed on his quest for his brother's death. He would have to forget about her, every moment they'd ever shared. She was still as he stood, his body aching with the ferocity of her punch. He stood off to the distance, only hoping for a breath or a small movement from her battered body. He would only hope for so long though, and he moved forward on a bated breath as he kneeled in front of her body.

Her eyes were still closed, her hands outstretched over the broken ground to which she had landed. Her blood soaked the area, the gash above her eye causing him to reach out, touching her face in a vain wish to wake her. She was so cold, her body unmoved as he placed his palm onto her forehead, grasping her loyalty to the hidden leaf. He untied it, gently taking it from her head and depositing it in his pocket, where it would remain hidden for as long as possible.

He searched her face, believing for once that all his triumphs had been for nothing. There was nobody for him to return to, no comfort in the end for him to hold to. He could only reach to her now, as she lay broken on the very spot that he himself had laid just two hours ago. She should have never come, never seen him collapsed after his lone training. He had been stupid for not worrying about the surrounding villages. Of course Sakura would visit Sunagakure, she was the apprentice to the Hokage.

He lifted her arm, his eyes drawn to the wound on her wrist. He felt so guilty, and yet he didn't feel at all. He could hear her tinkling laugh in his mind, her determined yell, her solid command. He could still hear her on the night he abandoned the village, those tender words she had said to him being more of a sentiment than anything else he'd ever heard. He remembered the time he lay beneath her like this, dead to her as she was to him now. He remembered the tears that marred her cherubic face.

He could still feel her weight atop him, a comfort he hadn't permitted himself clear back then. He suddenly felt a weight atop him, only this time it wasn't literal. He crashed into her chest, sobbing as she fled this world, finally understanding what it meant to fight for something. All this time he was fighting against his own happiness. He never looked back to see the difference. Of course he had known that she would have been targeted had he ever admitted to his bond with her.

So the time had come for him to leave, for some reason though he'd rather like to stay, and so he did. He laid his head upon her cool chest, leaking his body heat to her. She lay unmoving beneath him, and he couldn't bear it any longer, he gathered her in his arms and sobbed openly to her. He told her he had never meant to hurt her, that he wished her only to forget him. He told her of his brief interactions with women along his journey, and how they meant nothing compared to the feelings he had for her. He told her of his mistake in leaving and how much he thought of her in his time away. He spoke of his last words before she was lifted to a bench, the thank you that meant far beyond that. To him he said it meant her feelings, the very essence of everything she'd ever done to him, and his anger at his own inability to return them.

He let her body sink into his empty lap, enjoying the feel of her nestled into his arms. So he stood, taking her with him as he walked on, just enjoying the feel of her resting within his arms. He returned to his camp, the looks of his allies being of disgust and pity for him. The girl in his arms was soaked in blood, her eyes closed to the world and her right wrist was bound by a piece of Sasuke's shirt. To them she looked dead, but of course why would their leader carry back a dead girl? Karin looked to her, the pink hair giving her off immediately. He had done one of his deeds all right. He had killed the girl from the photograph, or at least brought her inches to deaths door.

He didn't halt to acknowledge the four delinquents staring him down, the comfort from the body in his arms leading him to the furthest tent. He placed her on the cot, searching her empty face for any shred of indifference. He didn't know what he was doing anymore. He screamed knocking all of the contents from the small table to the floor. Just then he heard a whimper, so small and subtle he could hardly define it as human.

He whipped around, his face turning to that of final ignorance as he looked at her paling face. She was heaving for breath, her hands clenching onto the sheet beneath her. So there was still life to the body he'd taken home. He didn't know which was worse, her being dead or him having taken her back with him to find her alive. He cursed himself as he called for Karin, hoping desperately that she could do something.

It all seemed to happen in a flash, Karin rushing in and staring down at the gasping girl. She rushed to her side at Sasuke's command, reaching out to her hand and holding it tight. "We'll have to close her wounds, Sasuke get some vodka." Her fingers moved quickly to the hem of the tattered shirt, pulling it up to reveal the gaping wound. "Damn Sasuke, what'd you do to her?" She said as she applied pressure and poured the hard liquor into the wound, hearing a cry from the girl.

The hours wore on with screams and delusions. The young girl was lost in a world of black and red, the heat was burning throughout her body, the pitch black around her leaving her scared in her mind. She saw herself sitting hunched on a hill, her head on her knees in a hope that the pain would subside. She was crying, she could tell by the way her shoulders would shake every once in a while. She was just a child, probably shortly after the loss of Sasuke of Kanohagakure. She could hear the sobs now, the child was calling out to him, as if hoping for him to come racing back to her. How naïve. She could hear her words changing, the anger in them clear as she reprimanded the boy for something.

"How could you hurt me? After all I did to bring you back, to save you? How could you have killed us?" Her words sent shivers up her spine. What had happened? Had she been injured, if so by whom? She watched as she looked forward, for a moment looking like she was about to scream before her body went limp and she collapsed on the hill, her last word mouthed without a sound. It had been the name of the one to abandon her. After that her mind went black, never again an image portrayed across it, just the searing heat and the uncomfortable feeling somewhere in her body.

She could feel the sharp sting of alcohol upon her opened wounds, she could hear the cry from her own mouth, not understanding why they couldn't just give up and let her die. It had been enough for him to try to take her life, why bring her back again. He had told her in the beginning that he didn't want to fight, but of course she had insisted it. She needed her closure as much as he did, and without him willing to come back she had known how things would end. After all it was in their fate to always be running from something or someone. It was like in the land of snow their tears had been frozen, their hearts turned cold from the iciness of every word said in haste.

All that was left was their separation; the finality of death would be the only thing to stop the constant battle for constancy. She knew she would never stop until it was over, and she was sure that by this time he would know that as well. She would never give up until her death was forced upon her. She was no coward, he would never have known that though.

So the night wore on, the heat blaring out the cries of the young girl upon the small cot. Did it even matter anymore? She was half dead anyway, why not just let her go? That question would be weighing on every mind within that camp until the next morning when the young girl began to scream out in pain and fear for some night terror she was fighting. Alone, always and forever she would have to fight them alone, because nobody could reach beyond her pale skin, nobody could save her heart from being overtaken as the terror broke through her shields.

She'd been like this for hours, Sasuke was silent the entire time, not bothering to go into the tent, not wanting to see her in this state. It was true. He was a coward. He couldn't bear to fail her in such a way. She was the girl he would once have protected from anyone's blade, and now he had impaled her with his own. He could sense the judgmental manner of the comrades he had adopted. He would have never said it, would have never told them of the intense pain he felt with every sharp breath that entered her body. There was one morbid part of his mind that wished her dead, blamed her for every lost battle and final weakness. He had fought for love once, and that time was long since over.

He could tell that things were getting complicated, the pink haired girl would likely die before dusk, and he felt a horrible pressure upon his chest as he assured this with one glance at her pale face, covered in sweat and looking very much like a corpse. She wouldn't cry anymore, she just lay still, completely and utterly still as her eyes roamed back and forth, as if she was caught within a never-ending dream. She would take a deep breath every few moments, her mouth opening slightly. He could see the erratic movements from her legs, the twitching reminded him of a dying spider. He followed the contours of her face with his onyx eyes, observing, constantly watching for some sign of life. Of course there would be none. He would not get that one desperate chance in this day.

The night was well upon them by the time she first grasped at her abdomen, fighting the bandages free just well enough for Karin to throw a fit in the hassles of having to redo the unkempt bandages. She would never look her clearly in the face, for some reason she resented this girl. For some very heated reason she hated the fact that she could draw out such emotions in the Uchiha. She would be cautious around this girl, never really caring if the girl lived or died, she simple acted out of generosity toward Sasuke. This was always and forever for just Sasuke.

So on went the days until a week had past, and Sakura had lived as long within the small tent. She had not woken, hardly changed since the moment she was struck with the blade. She seemed not to fight at death. She seemed rather to be embracing it, carrying onward through the final moments on her own. Still Sasuke had hoped for more change, and slowly he knew he was letting her go, slowly he was saying goodbye. He would live with the fact that she would be gone, he would also live with the fact that she would have died by his hand.

He grew haughty, his words like lacerations to everyone he spoke to. He couldn't pretend that time didn't carry his will away. He could feel himself losing hope, like sand through his fingers it was just slipping ever away. It was just fleeing from him like everything else did. He could feel the depression within his mind slowing him down. He wasn't as fluid in everything he did, it was like a disease that left him staggering through life on empty will. He would kill his brother in two short days. It was only a matter of time.

The day came and went and he lay silent in a bed within a quaint cabin. Karin doted over him always, almost ignoring the slumbering girl within the next room. The only way she was reminded were by the constant questioning from the Uchiha about her. He would ask about her progress-not that there was any-, her wound, and her nightmares. Never had she seen him care so much about anything, conviction to kill his brother was the only thing to compare. Though now that conviction was gone. He had killed his brother and only suffered the humility of a scar across his left arm.

He was up and walking by the next week, wandering the forest as his past lay slumbering in a small room in the cabin, never once near waking, yet so far from death still. He didn't know what to think anymore. She was gone without truly being gone. Did it matter anymore? Should he harbor hopes for something that seemed so hopeless? He found himself in the comfort of another woman's arms, in her bed and within her world. For a moment he could forget the stinging pain of his ailing comrade, but that bliss only would last a few quick moments, if at the most. He would come to her only in the night, only for one thing. She never once complained, not once questioning why he may be doing it.

So the month turned again and the air turned bitterly cold. He found himself standing over her rigid form, draping a blanket to ward off the offending night air. He would sometimes just sit and listen, just to the breathing that still went on within this room. It was fairly extraordinary the way she had lived for so long. She was so slight now, her body so thin and frail, and yet you could still see beauty beneath the pale hair and skin. She was being force fed broth unwillingly, her only hope being the meat based compound, which carried almost no nutritious value.

She seemed to forever be in peace, forever just lying there, not once disturbed by the humming of the Uchiha mistress, or the fact that Sasuke would often make late night visits to her room, bearing warm blankets and beef broth. He still felt something when each breath entered her body, that small glimmer of hope that would never leave him be. He would lie awake some nights just wondering if tomorrow would be the day she'd wake, the day she'd say again those words he was always waiting to hear. She deserved them at this point.

It happened on the coldest day of the fall, he entered the room and stepped toward her bed, watching cautiously as she made movements from beneath the covers. Her eyes were still closed, but he knew she could hear him. He spoke softly, not knowing of her state of being. "Can you speak?" He asked her, his voice dark and emotionless.

"Ye-" She couldn't seem to go on, her voice cracking and breaking off as she cracked open her eyes, closing them as soon as she saw the light leaking in from the filth covered window.

He sighed and slid the curtain closed, moving closer to the bed. "I figured as much." He sat down beside the small bed, in his usual chair near her face. "You were in a coma Sakura, for nearly three months." He could feel the hope still there, and yet he wasn't feeling like he thought he should. He didn't feel ecstatic; he didn't have that flighty feeling within his body like he used to get from Naruto recovering.

"I bet Naruto's worried." She whispered, slightly scared of the prospect of being in slumber for so long. She was confused, what had happened to her? Why was she with Sasuke and how had she ended in a coma? She could only imagine the worst as she felt herself sneak into slumber, not noticing the Uchiha place a light kiss on her forehead before retreating to the confines of his own room.

It had been near a month since she'd woke, and she was gaining body mass back slowly, still thin but not as drastically so, and her face was sporting a warm tan from the long walks she'd taken to having at the fort. She didn't know why she'd stayed here for so long. She could clearly make it back now, though she still didn't fully understand why she would wish to go back. She didn't remember anything from the night her coma began, she couldn't place the feeling but for some reason it only brought her to believe that she should leave, leave from everywhere and just hide. Hide until death decided to carry her of it's own will.

Most nights she would hear the moans from Sasuke's room she would just roll back over and go to sleep, but tonight was just one of those odd moments where she decided it was too caustic to do so. She stepped to the sill, leaning out the window and breathing in the fresh air as it began to whip away the sounds from within the cabin. She pulled herself through the window, landing lightly on the other side and sinking till her knees were bent to her face, leaning into them as she stared up at the orange hued moon.

Her hair was to her mid back, having grown in the time she'd spent in her coma. She would often times find herself drown to the narrow scar upon her abdomen, wondering what story lay beyond the skin and scar. She would sometimes just muse on the fact that it was some strange animal that she had been attacked by. Though somehow she knew that it was a blade, and a rather large one at that. She could only expect one, and that one was the factor that tore her up inside. She would not speak unless he was near, she would not smile unless he came to her, though she would never admit it hearing of his nightly activities broke up her heart in a way that nothing else ever could.

Though for some odd reason she could no longer cry. No tears would ever come, no pain ever really showing itself upon her heart. All she felt was disappointment, and in the very least fear. She didn't want to be alone, and yet she didn't want to wander back so late upon her mission. They most likely already believed her dead anyway.

Two more weeks passed and she was brought to her senses by the girl named Karin, suggesting that she would be grieved over if not for her return to the leaf. She had packed just the few clothes she had acquired from Karin, and she was just waiting for time to pass. She wasn't really happy about leaving Sasuke, but there was the fact of his mistress, his bed partner that would never leave her to have him.

Sasuke snuck into her room, watching as she tore about the room, cleaning all until it was just so near perfect. He would never see her again after tonight. That thought left him feeling lost again, why should he let her leave? He had already let go though, and he knew that. This was no longer the girl that he had loved, this was the young girl who had died and been brought back out of his own need to hear her voice just that one last time.

He would allow her the dignity of her freedom. He could never be with her anyway, She was too pretentious, she never let things settle in her own life, save for the few moments she would smile for him in a vain hope for some emotion from him. Of course he didn't know how to return that. He didn't see her as real anymore, it was like he was in a dream; he couldn't really touch her without feeling like he was crashing into a ghost, falling forever in a hole of doubt.

So when she came to him, her eyes lightened, her hair pulled atop her head in a messy bun, he pulled back. He didn't want to offend her, and he saw the hurt in her eyes as he stepped back, looking at her eyes as if they were going to swallow him whole. She sighed and moved back to her bed, sitting on the carefully folded covers as she look up at him. "I guess this is goodbye then." She said, and he nodded.

That was what he'd been waiting for; those words were the only wish he had for her. He could feel something tighten in his chest as she leaned up, touching his face with her soft palm, enjoying the feel of his skin against hers. She got on her knees, rising until she was at eye level to him. She leaned forward, her lips touching his in the barest caress. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before, and for that one moment he didn't think. He pulled her head closer, forcing the kiss to evolve into something deeper.

She slowly was pushed back against the mattress, her head cradled in his calloused hands, his hands making quick work of her shirt. He pulled it up, looking down at the scar left from his burning blade. He leaned down slowly, gracefully, and placed a tender kiss upon the soft flesh, causing goose bumps to break out along her stomach. She felt that something stronger than she recognized was taking place at this moment, and she touched his face, looking him in the eyes and seeing the regret in his coal black eyes.

He kissed her deeply then, holding her tight to his body, closer than he'd ever felt to her before. He felt something far more than anything he'd ever felt for any other woman in his life, and he slowly leaned back, pulling her shirt off over her head, carefully kissing every part of her body until he could swear he'd memorized everything about her. She leaned into him as they kneeled together on the bed, caressing his chiseled chest as she leaned in for another kiss. They were so lost in the moment they couldn't think of proper actions. They just kissed, they're hearts seeming to melt into every caress between them. He lay her back against the pillows, knowing that she would have to endure pain before the night was spent. He felt like a monster for wishing to cause her harm, yet at the same time he didn't want anyone else to get the chance to.

He moved smoothly atop her, enjoying the small moans she produced as he moved into her. He couldn't help but smile as he caught her lips, leaning into her as he continued on. The night was long, and the pleasure immeasurable. They lay asleep in each other's arms in the morning hours, Karin having seen the evidence was hurt more than she could have ever imagined.

She had known she meant nothing compared to that girl, but for that girl to be so perfect even in her misery was something she had never believed possible. She had grown fond of the strength the girl could show in the hardest predicaments. It was as if she had a wall within her heart, protecting her from anything trying to penetrate the precious place.

Sasuke woke first, looking down at the girl lying beside him. She was so flawless. In a way almost no person could imagine. She was ready for anything, and he could almost guarantee that time would not be against her if she fought it. She was timeless, her beauty immature compared to many of the girls he had known. It was like a child, silent and cute in a way that only she could achieve.

He wouldn't make her say those words again, would never wish it upon any other person. Still he couldn't pretend that things were going to work out. They were destined to be separated; it was so that meant for her to be further from him than before. Yet his mind would fight it all the way. He didn't want to let her go. For without her his life would never be good enough, the words would never be good enough just said, and he would never find the sex to be just as good. He couldn't pretend that it wouldn't tear him apart. It would reflex the pain from her coma. It would mirror his desperation to have her awake and with him.

No matter what it took, no matter how long it would be he would most definitely have to come back to her. So he told her they would depart, leave behind the camp that she had called home for near five months. The ground was scattered with dried leaves, the wind whipping around them like a brick wall. The scatter of leaves and flurry of the wind left him the opportunity, and he was gone. She was left again alone in the world, without him again. She let out a wail and fell to the ground. Angry, yet understanding, and so she accepted him for himself and left, she ran to the village, her arms wrapped around her in a vain attempt for warmth.

It was two months and she still was returning to normal, forever learning to laugh and tease again. She enjoyed the warm comfort of spring, and every once in a while she'd wonder where he was. Just what he may be doing and the irony of it all, that he may take her life then save it. That he may leave her to go back alone and be apart once again. So she sat atop the hill, sketching what would be a perfect artwork had she truly been an artist. It was just a small-scale sketch of a birch wood tree. She smiled warmly at the warm breeze upon her chilled limbs.

"Sakura" She turned to the voice on instinct, meeting his gaze with a livid stare. His coal eyes gave him away to her, and she knew that he was back. Again she was in her haven. It wasn't perfect, but to her it would just always be good enough. Even after all he did to her, it would be a good enough apology for him to stay.


End file.
